


As Time goes by, we stay the same

by Jupe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday Fluff, M/M, Pre and Post Timeskip, bit of angst, but like... not a lot, mentions of other character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24556807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupe/pseuds/Jupe
Summary: A look into Sylvain's birthdays as years go by. Some turn out to be good, others not so much.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	As Time goes by, we stay the same

Sylvain doesn’t really care about his birthday. He often hears that it’s strange for a child like him. That most of his peers are so excited for their birthdays, that they loose sleep several days before the actual date. He knows what people mean by that, because he, too, sees it whenever one of his friends’ birthday is around the corner. They all get excited and keep babbling on and on about it. But Sylvain just isn’t like that, and he can’t remember the last time he was. Probably the one year where his father had _actually_ taken his brother with him to go somewhere, and it had been only Sylvain and his mother at home. They’d had cake, he had gotten his presents, and the rest of the day there were friends and relatives coming to celebrate with him.  
He’d been excited back then, because it was a birthday without the threatening presence of his older brother, always hovering around him and shooting him angry glances because, of course, he was being the spoiled brat again, who got all the special treatment, while noone came to celebrate Miklan’s birthday. He had also been excited, because it was a birthday without his father constantly standing behind him, telling him to behave properly in front of all the other nobles, always reminding him of the high expectations he had for him. Yes, in that year - was it his fifth or his sixth birthday? - he had felt free from that pressure, for once. It was nice.

This year isn’t like that. It’s his thirteenth birthday, all the nobles are gathered at the Gautier estate, his brother is staring daggers at him, and his father gives him warning looks to behave as people expect it from a young noble. Most of these faces Sylvain has never even seen, and they, too, first have to be told who he is, before they put on their shallow smiles and congratulate him, ask him if he enjoys his party, and then turn away to engage in adult conversations again. He doubts they are truly there for him. This is more like another one of his father’s attempts to make the Gautier family look good. He’s been using Sylvain for this for the past thirteen years, so it’s not much of a surprise anymore, but it still bothers him.  
Still, he knows better than to complain when his father quiets the room and begins to talk.  
"Thirteen years ago,the goddess granted us the greatest gift we ever could have asked for.",Sylvain hears his fathers voice echo through the hall. His words are met with small "Aww"s from the crowd. Sylvain just stands still,his biggest fake smile spread wide across his face. They all think he's referring to his son. That Sylvain is that great gift.

But Sylvain knows better. The gift is not him. It's his blood. His father couldn't care less about him. If he hadn't been born bearing a crest,he would be just as bitter and ostracised as Miklan is. His father keeps telling his generic tale about "what a blessing it is to have such a wonderful son" and "House Gautier will be in good hands with a fine young man like him". Sylvain wants to run away, to hide somewhere. All of his father's lies make him sick. Especially now. Especially when he stands in front of all of these people. Especially when he talks to them,and has to thank them for their happy birthday wishes,and is reminded with every word he says that he's just as much of a liar as his father is.  
If Sylvain had a say in this, he would want a small party with only his best friends. Not all those faces he doesn’t recognize. Not all the pretending that he’s a well-adjusted and mature young man, a bright future for house Gautier. He couldn’t care less about all of that. Still, he bites his tongue and keeps pretending, keeps up his act. While most of the other children present are running around, laughing, Sylvain wanders from one group of people to the next, engaging in polite small talk. Once in a while he stops to talk to Dimitri or Ingrid, even allowing himself to genuinely laugh with them, but he always returns to wandering around on his own to talk to whatever adult stops him for a chat.

As he’s searching for someone else to talk to once again, his eyes land on the slim, tall figure of his father, who, of course, had his eyes on Sylvain as well. With a slight gesture he waves Sylvain over, then turns back to the conversation with the wide smile he puts on when he’s trying to appeal to someone. Sylvain hurries over - but doesn’t run, because that’s not fit for him - and comes to a halt next to his father, who doesn’t miss a beat to introduce him to the noble couple he’d been making conversation with. “ _This_ is my son Sylvain. Sylvain, say hello to lord and lady Asquith.” Sylvain turns to them and takes a bow as he greets them. Lord Asquith is a small, round man with dirty blonde hair and a piercing gaze that makes Sylvain’s skin crawl, whereas his wife is tall - easily looming over her husband- and looks down at him, her mouth drawing a thin line of red lipstick on porcelain skin. It doesn’t take Sylvain long to realize why they are looking at him like that: He is being evaluated. Hidden slightly behind lady Asquith’s ridiculously large dress is a small girl, maybe ten years old, looking at him with wide eyes. Sylvain gazes up at his father, who stares back with an unreadable expression. His father is trying to get him engaged. Sylvain swallows down the sick feeling crawling up his throat and puts on a smale - the fake one - before returning to face the nobles.

He’s being asked a few generic question that he answers half-heartedly while his eyes wander around the room, searching for a way to escape this conversation. His saviour enters through the door only minutes later. The first thing catching his attention is the blue coat of the man entering. A smile spreads on the man’s face as the king of Faerghus himself walks up to greet him in a hug. The actual object of Sylvain’s attention, however, is standing nearby, patiently waiting as his older brother helps him out of his coat, with a face that clearly says _I’m old enough to take my coat off myself_. His cheeks are cold from the winter air, while his eyes scan the room, his eyebrows furrowing in disapproval at the large number of people around. The boy’s gaze meets Sylvain’s, and within seconds his face lights up, pulling away from the older boy still grasping his coat, trying to get it off.  
A loud “Sylvie!” pierces through the room, and before he knows it, Sylvain finds himself in a tight embrace, trying to stay on his feet. For a short while, all of Sylvain’s caution to act mature is forgotten, as he wraps his arms around the younger, laughing loudly. “Hello, Fe!”, he grins, patting his friend’s hair. Felix lift his head to look up at Sylvain, smiling widely with his cheeks still rosey, his almond-coloured eyes sparkling, as he shouts out a “Happy Birthday, Sylvie!”. And it’s one of the few instances of this day where Sylvain wholeheartedly means what he says when he lets out a quiet “Thank you!”

Sylvain notices the disapproving look on his father’s face, so he carefully takes his arms off Felix, trying to adjust his posture. Felix, however, still grabs onto Sylvain’s arm, as he start to excitedly talk to Sylvain. “Glenn showed me this really cool sword thing today! I wanna show you! Can I show you, Sylvain?” His eyes shine brightly as he keeps talking, and Sylvain can’t help but to softly smile and ignore the people standing next to them. Felix doesn’t open up like that around a lot of people, and Sylvain could never bear it to shut him down. Not even when it means disobeying his father. And so, he listens, as Felix keeps talking on and on about sword training, and how his favourite cat ran away yesterday, but Glenn managed to catch it again, and how a few weeks ago, when they had visited the king, he had managed to score a hit against Dimitri. Sylvain smiles and laughs along with his friend, giving him a praising pat on the head for his hit against Dimitri, and forgets about the eyes on them in that moment.  
Felix abruptly stops talking when he notices the little girl, still staring at them with huge eyes. He’s younger than Sylvain, but even he has no trouble realizing what he just interrupted. His smile turns into a frown and he scoots closer to Sylvain, little cold hands grabbing on his bigger, warmer one. He silently looks around for a few moments, going from the little girl over to all the adults. Then he starts walking, and Sylvain is afraid he’ll let go of him to leave and he’ll have to deal with this on his own again. Instead, Felix hands still tightly hold onto his own. First it’s just a small tug as he tries to walk away, but it quickly turns into a stronger pull as Sylvain doesn’t budge. Felix glances up at him with the pleading gaze that always - always - works on Sylvain. He doesn’t bother apologizing as he allows Felix to drag him away past the other people, dragging him out of the room.

Felix knows the Gautier estate well enough, at least the few spots that Sylvain has to hide, whenever his brother is trying to be mean to him, or his father’s constant demands get overwhelming. Noone except Felix - not even Dimitri and Ingrid - knows about these spots.  
One of them is a narrow room behind a small door, too small for most adults to get through easily, but perfect for a child to fit, with a large window that allows a look outside into the tiny garden that lies within the estates walls. Sylvain doesn’t know what the room is actually for - he’s never seen anyone use it - but he always figured it was the perfect hideout for him.  
A few years ago he has dragged all the chairs, blankets and pillows that he figured nobody would miss in here, so him and Felix could build a pillow fort. It had been a particularly dark and rainy day, and Felix was crying because he’d just had an argument with his brother. They had built their own little cave and hidden there until it had gotten so dark outside that they could barely see anything anymore.  
Even now, it’s still standing just as they left it. Felix crawls into the space and wordlessly waits for Sylvain to follow him. He has no reason not to, so he lets himself drop right next to Felix. It’s quiet in here. Much quieter than the chatter-filled hall they’d been in just moments ago. It’s nice, to just take a moment to look out the window and see the flowers down in the garden. Gautier territory is often too cold for any flowers to bloom, but around Sylvain’s birthday the weather tends to get warm enough for at least a few colourful spots to appear here and there.

Sylvain is surprised that it’s Felix who finally breaks the silence. “Are you marrying that girl?”, he asks, quietly, not taking his eyes from the window. Sylvain sighs and leans back into the pillows, putting his arms behind his head to rest it on them. “I… don’t know. I don’t really want to. But who knows what my father is planning.” Felix now turns around to frown at him. “I don’t want you to get married to some girl. What if you forget about me then? I don’t want you to forget me.” Sylvain smiles fondly. “Don’t worry about that, Fe. Remember when we promised that we’d always stick together? I’m keeping that promise.” It’s enough to make Felix smile a little, as he scoots closer and snuggles up next to Sylvain. “Good. Because I don’t want you to forget all about me or something.” Sylvain hums in agreement and gently nuzzles Felix’s hair. “Won’t happen. I promise.”  
They stay in silence like that for a while. Sylvain knows they can’t hide in here for too long, unless he wants his father to get really angry - But a little bit longer will be okay.

°

His twentieth birthday passes by quietly, without much of a fuzz being made around it. Sylvain doesn’t really mind. It’s kind of a welcome change, compared to how his birthdays usually go. He gets a few birthday wishes from his classmates. A cake from Mercedes and Annette. Dimitri buys him dinner, and Ingrid gives him flowers. Even their professor invites him to have some tea.  
But there is no huge party being thrown, no people he doesn’t know, and no pressure to please his father, who’s still all the way back in Faerghus. He does get a letter from his parents, but decides not to open it until the next this. His birthday is so nice and enjoyable, he’d hate to ruin it all by whatever his father has to say.

For a moment he thinks about heading into town, hitting up a few girls and asking if they would like to be his special “birthday company”, but he doesn’t feel like that at the moment. The reason he’s so content with this day is that he was able to be himself for the most part, aside from a few fake smiles here and there - but those are sort of normal for him by now, almost a part of him, really. Still, to land a hit on a girl, he has to put on his best “charming noble” facade, and he’s not in the mood for that. Instead, he retreats to his room, grabs a book and gets ready for an uneventful evening. He’d never allow anyone to know this, but once in a while he’s grateful to just be on his own, away from girls, and from the expectations of other people that he always has to fulfill. It’s nice to just be himself every once in a while, without any of the thousands of masks he puts on every day.

He can’t help the wave of disappointment rushing through him when he hears the knock on his door. With a suppressed sigh he sets his books aside. “Yeah?”, he calls out to whoever stands on the other side of the door. As it slowly opens, he straightens his shoulders and channels all of his energy to put on a charming smile.  
“Hey.” Sylvain recognizes the voice before he gets to catch a glimpse of the person entering. Just like that, his fake smile turns into a genuine one, that doesn’t take energy to wear at all. “Felix!”, he exclaims, trying not to show too much enthusiasm in his voice. If he got all happy about him being there, Felix would just scoff and leave immediately after doing whatever he came here for. In truth, Sylvain wants to jump up and give his friend a hug. As much as he looked forward to some alone time, he can’t deny that he’d started to feel upset already, that he didn’t hear from Felix all day.

“Happy Birthday.” Felix still stands in the doorway, hands behind his back, his eyes landing anywhere but in Sylvain’s face. “Sorry for not saying it earlier, but you were always talking to someone else, or were busy, and…” He trails off. Sylvain shakes his head. “No need to worry about it. You’re here now, aren’t you?” Felix cracks a smile, so small, Sylvain almost misses it. The fact that he doesn’t makes his heart jump.  
“Anyway, I uh… Got you something.”, Felix mumbles. His hands appear from behind his back to reveal a small package that he proceeds to toss towards Sylvain. It’s thanks to Felix’s good aim that Sylvain actually manages to catch it, rather than gracing it with his fingers before it drops down in front of his feet. Goddess, Felix would be pissed if he did that. Luckily, he can get a firm grasp on it. The paper wrapping is surprisingly neat. Sylvain has seen enough presents from Felix - to himself and others- that have shown that his friend tens to not really care about how aesthetically pleasing his presents look.

“Next year I’ll just get you some paper, if you admire it that much.”, Felix grumbles, making Sylvain realize only now that he’S been admiring the wrapping for a few minutes now. Sylvain doesn’t bother to reply, but he starts unwrapping it - as careful as he can - with a soft chuckle. His fingers graze across something soft, and as he pulls the paper aside, he finds a pair of gloves. Before he can say anything, Felix speaks up. “You always complain about having cold hands. I know, Garreg Mach isn’t as cold as Faerghus, so you can’t wear them now, but when you back home, you-” “Thank you! I love them!”, Sylvain interrupts him, grinning widely at him. Felix averts his eyes, trying to hide the blush spreading across his face when Sylvain finally jumps up and closes the gap between them to pull Felix into a hug. He doesn’t resist, probably remembering that he should be nice on Sylvain’s birthday. He gives Sylvain a few more seconds, then starts to wriggle out of the hug. “Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”, he huffs, but by the sound of his voice, he doesn’t truly mind. “Still, I’m grateful for this.”, Sylvain assures him. They stand in the middle of the room for a while, neither of them sure what to say.

“Were you reading something?”, Felix suddenly asks. Sylvain follows his gaze, landing on the book he already completely forgot about. “Sorry for interrupting you, I’ll leave again.” Sylvain shakes his head and quickly catches Felix’s wrist. “Don’t! It’s not that big of a deal, really, I…” _I enjoy your company_. “I can just keep reading later. Chat with me for a while?” Felix reluctantly agrees and pulls his hand away from Sylvain’s - He didn’t even realize it was still there - to sit down on the edge of Sylvain’s bed.  
Sylvain takes a seat next to him, and they start talking. Later, Sylvain couldn’t even tell what it was about. Only, that he felt comfortable enough to talk to Felix as himself - No walls or fake smiles needed.

°

The middle of a war is no time for a birthday party. Even if they had the time for anything more than a cake and a good wishes, Sylvain is far from in the mood for celebration. There’s too much violence, too much blood, and too much death. Sylvain would feel bad for celebrating in a time like this. That being said, it doesn’t mean that he declines when his friends ask him to at least join them for lunch.  
They sit in the dining hall, Felix next to him, and Ingrid across from him, and it almost feels like back when they were still students. It would be a lie to say that they were free of worry back then. But those problems became trivial the moment the war broke out, and have not become more relevant ever since. Now, all they can think about is whether or not they will see the next day. Whether or not their friends will still fight by their side the next time they head into battle, and whether or not their families will still be there when they can finally return home.

As they sit together now, however, they can stop thinking about that for a while. “You’re shoving that food down your throat like a starving man.”, Ingrid points out, as she waves her fork vaguely in Felix’s direction. Felix glares at her dismissively. “Sorry, who ate that chicken with their bare hands? Wasn’t me, was it?” Ingrid is about to protest, when Sylvain interrupts them. “Guys, please, can’t you be peaceful just until we’re done eating? You both lack table manners, but I’ll have you know that I still appreciate your company.”  
Both of their glares are now directed towards him, and Sylvain realizes too late that there are far too many knives nearby. He always thought he was going to die a tragic death on the battlefield, but in that moment he’s not so sure.  
Felix scoffs. “Lucky it’s your birthday.” Ingrid just sighs and goes back to eating. Judging by the gazes they’re exchanging, they are still continuing their argument in silence. Sylvain doesn’t mind. In a way, it’s comforting to know that certain things never change. Five years of war can’t stop Felix and Ingrid from having their small arguments. And even eternity won’t stop them from turning on Sylvain in the blink of an eye when he says something dumb.

He allows a soft smile to find its way on his face for the rest of their lunch.

°

Even after the war there’s still a lot to do in Faerghus. Maybe now more than ever. So, Sylvain doesn’t take it too personal when he learns that Dimitri, and even Ingrid have too much on their hands to stop by on his birthday. “We’ll come as soon as we can to make up for it!”, they promised. Sylvain hasn’t heard from Felix in a while, so he isn’t sure whether or not he’s too busy to come by either. In his last letter, Felix wrote that he had to take care of something for Dimitri, but ever since then, Sylvain hasn’t heard from him.  
Already a month in advance Sylvain started insisting that his father won’t invite any guests, and to his surprise, it seems like he indeed listened. No big events are being planned, and Sylvain is granted a slow morning of waking up late and lazing around in his bed for a while.

It’s almost noon when he finally decides to get up. He’s greeted by a few staff members on his way to the main hall, where he expects his parents to be. Instead, he finds the room empty, except for one person, standing near the window and looking outside. It's been a few months since they last saw each other, but Sylvain would recognize that figure even after a million years.  
“Felix!”, he happily greets his friends as he walks towards him. Felix turns around, one of his rare, gentle smiles resting on his lips. “About time you finally wake up. I was about to go back home.”, he scolds him, but Sylvain knows he doesn’t really mean it.  
“Well, if you told me you were coming, I would have gotten up way earlier!” Sylvain pulls him into an embrace. Felix doesn’t resist. “It was meant to be a surprise.” His head sinks against Sylvain’s chest in a content sigh. “Your parents headed to the market. Said it might take a bit longer.”, he mumbles into Sylvain’s clothes. Fine by Sylvain. “Guess I’m spending my birthday with you then.” Felix nods, still not lifting his head, still not letting him go. Ever since the war has ended, they’ve grown closer, a lot, But they’ve yet to find the courage to actually speak about it. Not that it really matters. Sylvain can read Felix without words, and he knows that Felix can do the same with him. All the years they’ve spent together left them knowing almost always what the other is thinking.  
Sylvain always hated it when people saw through his act, but with Felix he doesn’t mind. Felix was there before he put up his walls, and Sylvain never bothered to shut him out. Even if he wanted to, it would take too much effort to try and fool him.

As they’re standing there in silence, an idea pops up in Sylvain’s mind. He lets his hand slide down Felix’s arm, easily finding his hand. Grabbing it, Sylvain starts to gently tug on his arm, pulling Felix out of the room. “Where are we going?”, he asks. Sylvain doesn’t bother to reply and just keeps leading the way. Felix recognizes the halls they’re wandering down soon enough, and as they enter the room, he begins to chuckle. “Do you think we still fit in there?” Sylvain turns to him with a cheeky grin. “I might have a bit of trouble, but you should fit well enough. You haven’t grown that much since then.” Felix glares at him, but proceeds to squeeze himself through the narrow door. Granted, he did grow a little, and so he he seems to struggle a bit to get to the other side. However, he’s flexible enough to somehow fit through there.  
“I want to see you get through that without help.”, Felix chuckles, as Sylvain approaches the door. “Very fun. I can fit just fine, you’ll see.” He says that, but it turns out the be a lot harder than he thought - and he didn’t think it would be easy to begin with.  
“I’ll ask someone to make that entry bigger.”, Sylvain complains after he finally manages to somehow enter the room. Felix looks at him, not bothering to hide his amusement at Sylvain’s struggle.

The room is still the same as Sylvain left it, even after all those years, the pillow fort standing strong as ever. It will be interesting to get in there without making it crash down on them. As kids, they just managed to fit in there together somehow, but for two adults, it might prove to be too small.

He’s proven wrong, somehow. A few minutes later, Sylvain leans against the pillows, Felix sitting between his legs and leaning his head on his chest again. It’s quiet, the only sound being the faint singing of birds somewhere outside. Usually, Sylvain would try to fill the silence with whatever conversational topic would come to his mind, but right now he doesn’t want to talk. Not, when it’s so quiet that he can hear Felix breathing, and not, when that sound is so calming to him. Not, when it’s so peaceful in this room.  
He wraps his arms around Felix, just to keep him even closer than he already is. Not that Felix looks like he plans on going away any time soon. One of his hands rests on Sylvain’s chest, the other is somewhere in between bodies and pillows. His face looks so relaxed, like all the walls he tends to shield himself with have disappeared in that moment.

For a while it feels like they’re kids again, hiding away in their own little world from whatever is waiting for them out there. But they’re not kids anymore. They’ve both seen too much to even remember what it was like back then, innocent and unknowing of what was ahead of them. It doesn’t matter to Sylvain. The years have brought a lot of sadness his way, and Felix wasn’t spared from that either. But time has also brought them closer. Time has proven that their promise to stick together was more than the wishful thinking of two children.  
“I’m happy we’re both still alive, you know. I’m happy to get this moment with you.”, Sylvain mumbles into Felix’s hair. There’s a quiet “m-hm.” from Felix. Sylvain doesn’t need much more of an answer.

After a while, Felix shifts a little, sitting up enough to be face to face with Sylvain. His cheeks are flushed as he looks at him, seemingly preparing himself to say something. “I… I love you.”, he finally says. The words are whispered, but they loudly echo in Sylvain’s head. Felix’s face goes even redder as he goes back to bury his face in the taller man’s chest. It takes Sylvain a few moment to remember how to speak, but eventually, he nuzzles his face into Felix’s hair. “I love you too, Felix.”, he whispers back, as he places a tender kiss on the other’s temple. Felix looks up at him, a sheepish smile spreading across his lips.  
Sylvain doesn’t expect Felix to kiss him, but that’s just what he does, as he closes the already narrow space between them. Sylvain thinks a lot about kissing Felix. He always has, ever since he was old enough to - more or less - understand the appeal of it. Still, nothing could have ever prepared him for how it actually feels. He has kissed countless women, and even some men before, but nothing has ever felt even remotely like this. It quite literally takes his breath away.  
When Felix pulls back, the blush on his face has softened a little, although it’s still there. His head finds its way back on Sylvain’s chest, where his heart is beating louder than ever. 

“You know, this might actually be the best present you’ve ever given me.”, Sylvain points out after a while, his voice calm and soft. Felix only replies with a content chuckle and another kiss on his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Can I write about Sylvain without pushing my Sylvix agenda? No, no I can absolutely not.
> 
> But Let's be real, what is life without a Little bit of Sylvix, right?


End file.
